Posts made by littlest-lily

Chapter 9
Evie

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

This is it. He’s done with me.

“A-about what?” I ask, trembling, “I won’t touch the scissors anymore, I promise!”

“Not that,” Aiden says, shaking his head. In this moment he looks very tired, and… hurt, almost. I don’t understand, not completely, but I’ve seen this kind of look before.

I stand there, not knowing what to say to stop the train from wrecking.

He sighs heavily. “I went to the lab and… it was bad. The whole room’s pretty much destroyed, none of the machinery was intact. And from what I can find out, Dr. Little was a complete mystery person - no one knows who he was or where he came from or anything. I don’t even know if that’s actually his name at this point or if it was just a sick joke. And according to his notes, none of the stuff that was shrunk down ever got restored again. It… it doesn’t look good, Evie.”

I have to keep the lid on. Keep it together.

“I wish I could tell you how sorry I am that this happened to you. I hate that I’m partly responsible. I’m trying to think longer term though…”

I can’t look him in the eye anymore, wrenching myself away from the piercing hazel.

“I understand that you’re scared of going to the authorities, and I wish I was able to just restore you myself instead. But I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what else to try.”

There’s a pause of deathly silence as I waver on the spot. It’s not a surprise at this point to find out that I might be stuck like this forever. I’ve either already come to terms with that, or more likely I just don’t have the capacity to process it yet. But now I have to face an entirely different reality instead. One that fills me with a deep, deep dread.

I blow out an exhale, like letting out steam to alleviate some of the pressure inside me. I try to take this small death gracefully and give him my gratitude for helping me as much as he has, all the while gathering the strength to negotiate.

“Aiden…” I finally say, still not quite looking him in the eye, “I don’t know what would have happened yesterday but… the way I see it, you saved my life. On more than one occasion. That’s not lost on me. I don’t know how to thank you and… you’re right. You’ve done enough.”

Another breath, even as cracks threaten the walls of my facade.

“I can’t ask any more of you. I can only imagine the burden I’d be. So… so I’ll… I’ll go…”

I feel a tickling on my cheek, a tear that I wasn’t able to keep in check. I stiffen and ignore it. Stay steady. I have to broker something other than the cops. Maybe someone from school, a professor or something–

“Hold on. What?” His tone makes me jump as he interrupts my thoughts, and my eyes suddenly meet his again. He looks completely bewildered. “Evie, I don’t think we’re on the same page. I really don’t know where you’re getting it from that I think you’re a burden?”

I blink, thrown off. “You were just saying… you want to go to the police, right?”

“I want to go to the police to better help you. Not to get rid of you. Is that what you thought?”

I had been reliving something from years ago. But it’s going differently this time, and I suddenly realize I’d completely misunderstood the situation. It’s as if the looming threat of a dark storm was actually just a cloud passing over the sun. I start seeing rays of hope again.

“Would you really rather just stay here? Even if you’d be stuck this way?” Aiden continues, “Y-you’re totally welcome to…”

Maybe it’s selfish, but I scramble for the opportunity. “Yes. Yes, I would. If that’s okay.”

“I mean… If that’s really how you feel then… shit, you can stay as long as you want.”

“Really?” I ask, and I finally wipe away that stray tear.

“Totally.” And he’s smiling at me now, the pain in his eyes dissipating. “Honestly I really miss living with someone. Not to turn around and make light of everything but, I don’t know, having a tiny roommate sounds kind of… fun?”

I feel surprised, but before I can unpack what he means by that, he resumes a more serious tone, “I just figured you’d want to take steps to getting back to normal as quickly as possible. You sure it’s a good idea to put it off?”

The danger has passed, but I still squirm nervously. “We don’t even know what that’ll look like,” I eventually say, “What kind of experiments they’d need to run or if I’ll end up all over the news… I just don’t know if I can handle that right now.”

"Okay… okay then! Well, damn, I’m glad we cleared that up. Just let me know when you feel ready to change course.”

"Thank you. I will.”

Aiden leans back in his chair and he actually looks just as relieved as I feel. "This changes things.” He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at me, corner of the mouth ticking up. “Now we can talk about the scissors.”

I wince. "I know, you’re right. It wasn’t worth the risk…”

"No, I can totally see why you’d want some amount of autonomy. So… let’s compromise, yeah? Let’s problem solve it. We’ll set stuff up so it’s easier for you to do things on your own. And please…” He leans in again, closer than usual, lowering his head so that I don’t have to look so high up. His gaze is gentle but intent. “Do take my word for it if I tell you you’re not bothering me? Being able to help makes me happy. Got it?”

I can feel something new on my cheeks. A warmth. It spreads through my whole body until I’m almost giddy with it. Suddenly I’m beaming up at him and extend my arm as if to give him a handshake. “Got it.”

He’s grinning right back and brings his hand up, index finger outstretched. I take it in both hands and we shake on it.

Things feel different as we have another meal together. I haven’t gotten over my new size, not by a long shot. I’m still actively pushing a lot of fear and uncertainty aside. But accepting my situation, even just on a surface level, is helping us both to relax.

“One thing I do need to ask of you…” I say, looking up from my taco crumbs, “I’ve been staying at AirBNBs while looking for a more permanent place to live. I was going to move out of my current one this weekend. Not that I can use my stuff now, but it all fits in one suitcase so…"

Aiden’s finished eating by this point and is currently cleaning up the desk. “Yeah, I should have enough space in my closet,” he says, “Sounds like we have some weekend plans then.”

“Maybe the day after tomorrow? The owner isn’t usually around on Saturdays.”

“Sure thing. In the meantime…” And now he’s opening up a drawer, below where I can see on the desk, and pulls out a notepad that’s over twice my height. “How about we start making a list of things to help you feel more at home?”

I get to my feet and internally attempt to reassure myself that it’s alright to let him help me this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

We go through a typical day and try to think of everything I might need to take care of myself. Thankfully I already have some shrunken toiletries, but Aiden offers me little bits of his own shampoo, deodorant and such to fill in the gaps. We debate what might be the best container to hold some of these things and eventually he thinks of the fact that he had gotten a bulk amount of toothpaste, meaning he has a bunch of little caps from those that we can use. I figure these might also be helpful just as buckets for carrying water.

On the subject of cleaning, we agree it might make more sense for me to hand wash my own clothes rather than potentially ruining them by including them with the normal sized laundry, so he offers me a drop of laundry detergent in another toothpaste cap. He ties some thread up to stretch between the desk lamp and a mug that he brings over, laying a hand towel down underneath it all, and bam. I have a clothesline.

I still need to make the clothes themselves, but I plan on letting him help this time. I’m still not particularly keen on the idea of doll clothes… I feel like they’d be made of something similar to the scratchy fabric of the hospital gowns. But I tell my new roommate that I’ll try them on if he thinks he finds something suitable. I do agree that dollhouse furniture might be nice - I wouldn’t mind shelves to store some of these things.

Food and water is a little trickier. A tank meant for small pets could work, at least to use for cleaning and whatnot. Aiden offers to give me a fresh spoonful of water every morning for drinking. He also brings over a couple of less perishable items - granola bars, packets of crackers, freeze-dried apple chips. We figure they’re good to have around in case I have to unexpectedly be alone for a meal. As much as I enjoy cooking, we can’t think of a safe way to set that up for me, so I’ll have to rely on my larger friend for the most part.

“It’d still be nice if we could get you a little fridge though,” Aiden muses. He’s brought his laptop over by this point to look for ideas online and is scrolling through a list of mini fridges, all of which would be the size of bounce houses to me. “Hey look, this one only holds a single soda can!” He looks at me with a bit more concentration, sizing me up.

“A can is what… six inches tall?” I wonder.

“A little less I think. Hmmm,” The giant has his hand up now, hovering it well above my head as he tries to visualize the height. “It would still be pretty big for you… Maybe worth a try though.”

I catch sight of the price on the billboard-like laptop screen. Yikes. “Don’t worry about it, I’m not sure I want to pay that much anyway.”

I had begrudgingly conceded to the fact that I wouldn’t be paying for rent nor for food since Aiden wouldn’t be spending anything extra on me (and while I have a small bit of savings, I clearly won’t be able to go back to work). He had wanted to pay for everything, but after some back and forth he eventually gave in to the decision that we would split the cost of my setup.

“My treat?” he offers now with a sheepish glance down at me. “If I see it at the store tomorrow I think it’s worth the experiment.”

I sigh in dramatic defeat, though I give him a grateful smile. “Fine. Thanks. It’s true, it might be nice for when you have classes over lunch time.”

Aiden pauses, thinking about what I just said. “We haven’t talked about school yet,” he says quietly, “It’ll obviously be harder for you to attend classes this way… um… are any of your classes online?”

“No, they’re not. I’ve thought about it, and yeah it’s a bit of a bummer, and a waste of that scholarship money… but oh well. I took this long to start college, I can wait a little longer. Maybe when I get my textbooks back I can study and be extra prepared for next time.”

"Hey, that’s the spirit. You can still be my study buddy for Biochem if you like.”

"I doubt I’d be much help, but sure!”

This leads us to the subject of what I’ll be occupying myself with all day. Studying aside, I’m bound to get bored. I do have several shrunken books that are more or less in my size to check out. Aiden breaks up little bits of lead in case I want to write or doodle. And thankfully I still have a warranty on my phone that was lost to the lab fire, so he can hopefully get a replacement for me and I’ll at least have internet access on that. It’s a good start.

Some craft projects will probably keep me busy as well. I will say, letting Aiden help me cut the strips of fabric for my makeshift dresses and rompers really is so much easier than when I spent an hour cutting one myself. But I’ve now also found a way to take a broken piece of toothpick and grind it against the side of a matchbox so that it sharpens into a point, creating a rudimentary sewing needle. Maybe I could make some real clothes at some point, but for now I test it out on a simpler project. Aiden cuts out a rectangle of fabric from an old shirt and offers some cotton stuffing from his couch cushions. I tie some thread to the toothpick to sew the thing up best I can. Voila. I have myself a mattress.

We’ve spent all afternoon and evening planning and making things, and I can’t believe I’m thinking this but… it’s true. This is kind of fun, somehow. In a summer camp kind of way, a new adventure where it feels like there’s so much to explore.

And we’re chatting throughout it all, entering into discussions about our interests and hobbies, and it turns out he does like things outside of Magic, such as hiking, fantasy novels and geology (hence his major). Meanwhile, I mostly mention enjoying cooking and crafting - everything to do with home economics. I find out that we’re almost the same age, with me being 24 and him 25, and that’s a rather strange thing to bond over, being a little older than the average college student. I find out it’s because he’s a grad student, and while I don’t go into all the details, I tell him about my wide variety of odd jobs I’ve had since high school.

We start joking around about the ludicrous gap between our sizes. At one point I invite him to sit down at my shrunken table and chair, acting all confused when he chuckles at me instead. At another point he pretends to hand me something but briefly holds it above my head, way out of reach. Nothing too mean, just kind of silly. Apparently finding the humor in the size difference is our way of coping.

The conversations are nice… I like him. We get along with very little effort.

Since neither one of us slept well last night, we decide to call it a little early for bedtime. Aiden gets me some warm water to wash myself with before he leaves, and I turn to look around at my setup, feeling satisfied about how everything’s coming together. And after some shopping tomorrow it’ll be even better.

Don’t give up. Fight back. Work harder.

I can do this.

@Olo There are definitely pros and cons to them getting to know each other post-shrink. It does complicate things that Aiden’s essentially “one of us” and is actively trying to avoid getting excited about her size. Granted, that would have been an issue regardless of when he’d known her…

@tiny-ivy Thank you so much for the lovely feedback! Always makes my day to hear what you guys think As much as I love the physical sides of this fantasy, the stuff that I particularly love writing is what the characters are thinking/feeling and how they communicate. It’s so much fun to play with that stuff.

@Mrgoblinging7 And now imagine her trying to get your attention during a video call! A whole other matter when you keep having to push her head down so she doesn’t show up on the camera and trying to explain why you’re so restless to your coworkers

Chapter 8
Aiden

Really, what was I expecting?

Standing outside of the chemical lab is a little surreal. All of its outer walls are still standing, but glancing down the alley to the side of the building, I can see the charred black where I estimate Dr. Little’s rented room was. There’s a surprising number of people around, many of them just passersby who are stopping to stare. There are a few police officers near the entrance, some having discussions with a couple of people not in uniform - owners of the building maybe. The perimeter is blocked off with black and yellow caution tape. I approach with some hesitation, and one of the more idle officers notices me and walks my way.

“The lab’s closed,” she tells me with a very dismissive tone.

“I know, um… I was actually here when the fire broke out yesterday. I, uh, left some of my stuff in one of the lockers and was hoping to see if I could try to get it back?” Not a complete lie.

She frowns and sighs and I have a feeling I’m not the first person who has tried to get in and snoop. “Wait here,” she tells me.

She steps away to have a brief discussion with a couple of the officers, the three of them all turning to look at me from afar. In the end a different person joins me - a bearded, friendlier-looking man. “Come with me,” he says, lifting the caution tape up so that I can duck underneath it.

We go inside and the intense smell of the smoke and burnt chemicals is nauseating, though I guess nothing truly toxic burned up if they’re letting people come in here without hazmat suits. It looks like the firefighters were able to douse the flames before they spread across the whole building, so the entire right side is eerily empty but intact. I lead the officer to the left.

“If you were near where the fire broke out then you might be out of luck,” the policeman remarks.

“I’m not sure if I was,” I say. This one is a complete lie. “I think I was close but it’s all a bit of a blur…”

“I’ll bet.”

My anxiety rises as we go down the hall, uncomfortable memories rushing back. I look for the familiar white door to the lab room but then suddenly realize that there is no door at all.

“Not something you see every day, is it?” the policeman says as I slow down to peek inside the very obvious scene of the incident. My heart sinks to my stomach.

Everything is in shambles. I can’t even make sense of what’s what - it’s all twisted metal and piles of charred rubble. I think the fire reached some kind of chemical in the cabinets that eventually caused an explosion. Part of the ceiling is caved in, one wall is mostly destroyed, and I see sunlight peeking through a crack in the other wall. There’s more caution tape and the room is clearly mid-investigation, even if it’s empty right now.

“Kinda spooky, right? Apparently someone died in there.”

My heart now leaps up to my throat and my shoulders stiffen. I wasn’t expecting him to announce something like that so plainly. “That’s awful,” I say tightly.

“Sure is. And the weirdest part is that no one knows who he was or what he was up to,” the officer continues in a low, conspiratorial voice. “He was real dodgy and secretive about his experiments, apparently. And now that everything’s destroyed I guess we’ll never really know what he was doing. Apparently something dangerous since it caused a fire.”

What the hell is wrong with this cop? Isn’t this, like, classified information or something? I wonder in a moment of panic if he’s playing mind games with me for some reason, but from what I’ve been gathering about his demeanor… it feels like this guy might just not be very bright.

I try to stay cool while taking advantage of getting potential information, matching his detached tone, “Really? Was this the only place he ran experiments?”

“See, that’s the thing!” He leans in a bit closer, looking excited about sharing the gossip, “No one knows! He used a fake address and fake qualifications when reserving this place, and nobody knows who was sponsoring him. It’s all a big mystery. Real weird stuff.”

“Weird,” I agree, all the while my eyes still searching the destroyed room for any sliver of hope. I find none.

“Anyway, if you work here then I’m sure you’ve already been questioned about it…?” He’s looking at me expectantly and I suddenly realize that he has been trying to wheedle gossip out of me.

“Oh, I’m just a student,” I respond plainly. The officer gets very quiet after that.

Nearby are the lockers, and while half of them still look pretty intact, the ones that Evie and I had used are in the half that got caught in the blast and now looks like the blackened remains of a campfire. So much for that.

I decide after I leave the lab that there are a couple of different errands I should run, so I head back to my apartment building’s garage to get my car. I stop by the bank to request a new credit card. I replace my old phone. I get a temporary driver’s license at the DMV. Meanwhile my mind is a million miles away.

As I sit in the car after what feels like a long morning, I wonder if I should stop by a store for supplies before heading home. I try to think of what Evie might need. She specifically declined my offer to find her doll clothes to wear; it seems kind of rude to ignore her and get them anyway. I can’t think of what else to do for her… I’m feeling really helpless again and my mind starts to spiral…

What am I going to say to her when I get home? It’s been dead end after dead end. Who am I kidding, I’m completely in over my head. There was never a chance that I could fix this on my own. I’m starting to think there might not be anyone who can fix this.

I slump over the curve of the steering wheel, letting my head hang in defeat. I decide to head back to her. It’s almost lunch time anyway.

One short car ride later, taking a quick detour to stop at a taco place so that I don’t have to cook, I get back to my apartment. There’s a flutter of nerves in me as I approach the door - I hope my small friend has been okay on her own.

But my fears were unfounded. I step inside and look towards the desk at the opposite wall, immediately seeing movement on it. I smile as I notice how quickly her little legs are moving… it looks like she’s running out to greet me. That feels really good, at least.

“Hi! It’s getting close to lunch time,” I call out to her as I set my stuff down and slip my shoes off, “Not too hungry?”

I realize my mistake as soon as her voice reaches my ears - she’s yelling loud enough for me to hear her but not quite enough that I can make out the words.

“Sorry, I’m an idiot,” I laugh as I approach the desk, “What did you say?”

“I said I probably have enough food to last all day,” she responds, motioning to the spoon that still has some of today’s breakfast on it.

“Right, I guess I still need to figure out portions. Better than too little I guess?”

“Oh totally, you don’t see me complaining.”

She’s giving me a wide smile and for a second I’m once again overtaken by the cuteness of her size. She looks like a little toy… Though I’m getting better at catching myself at least and I quickly move on.

I notice as I take a seat that a few things have changed on the desk since I left. The shrunken items have all been unpacked, and while most of them are still organized in piles off to the side, it’s like she created little stations for herself too. There’s a chair and table with some books of various sizes stacked onto it, the toiletries are all next to her water source, and anything edible is on its own smaller table by the comparatively massive lamp.

It’s so surreal, seeing this miniature camp easily fitting on the surface of my desk. I’m glad to see that she hasn’t just been wasting away in misery while I was gone. I find myself endeared to her industrious nature.

“You must really like Magic: The Gathering.”

“Huh?” I look back at her again, confused.

“Your shirt,” she says with a teasing smile, pointing towards my chest, “You were wearing a Magic shirt yesterday too.”

“Oh.” That’s right, we had bonded yesterday over card games. Right before our lives changed irrevocably. “I didn’t even realize… You know, I own exactly two Magic shirts. Apparently thought it’d make a good first impression to wear them back to back.” I laugh, a little embarrassed. “I promise I like other stuff.”

“Uh huh. Likely story.”

I grin at her, enjoying this procrastination before we get into what I was up to this morning. But then, due to us talking about clothes, I suddenly notice that Evie’s wearing something new.

It takes me a second to figure it out, but she’s somehow used one long strip of gray fabric to tie around herself, looping over each shoulder and around her torso, and knotted off at the hip to make a rudimentary dress. She definitely looks way more comfortable than she did in that hospital gown thing. I idly wonder where she got the strip of fabric until my eyes fall onto the one other thing that’s different since I’d left.

While half of my office supplies have gradually migrated to my bedroom, the other half is still here on the desk, on the opposite side from where I’d set up Evie. She’s dragged over every bit of fabric from the miniatures into a pile here… Right next to a pair of scissors. A pair of pointy, wide open scissors leaned up against a stapler, a heap of gray fabric still half draped over the sharp metal…

I can feel the color draining from my face as I imagine her miniature frame leaning over the comparatively gigantic blade. “Um, Evie,” I say faintly, “Please don’t tell me you used those scissors.”

Her demeanor changes as her eyes widen and she clasps her hands in front of her. “Was I not supposed to?”

“Are you serious? Th-that’s so dangerous!”

I didn’t raise my voice by much, but it really doesn’t take much, and the tiny girl’s stepping backwards now, shying away as her own voice wavers, “I-I was being really careful. I h-have experience with woodworking a-and building stuff, s-so I just… I thought I could…”

Ah, shit. I’m scaring her. I try to shrink back in my chair and appear less intimidating, taking a steadying breath to relax the muscles in my face. I remind myself that she’s safe, nothing happened, but my heart is still racing as I can’t help imagining the very different scene I could have walked in on if her hand had slipped while cutting the fabric. I feel like a parent who just found their toddler wandering around next to a swimming pool. Which, to be fair, isn’t a very respectful thought.

I lower my voice again and try to sound gentler. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be patronizing or anything. You’re an adult, I’m sure you’re fully capable, but… but accidents happen. I wouldn’t know how to help you if…” I trail off, unable to complete the sentence.

Evie slowly nods, still looking at me fearfully. She doesn’t say anything.

I try to force a smile. “You can let me know if you need help with something like that, okay? If I nick myself all I’d need is a bandaid.”

Her gaze drops down to the desk as she nods again. Her silence is killing me, but then finally she mutters something.

“Sorry?” I ask, leaning in.

She takes a deep breath and raises her head, summoning her resolve. “I just want to be able to… to do things myself. I don’t want to bother you every time I need something.”

“What? It’s not a bother at all.”

Her gaze drifts down again. “It’s a bother to me…”

I watch her for a moment, trying to find the right words. For being the larger person, I sure have been feeling a whole lot of helplessness lately. I know this entire thing is a bigger conversation. One that ties into what we needed to discuss anyway…

A wave of sadness passes through me. I want to keep putting this off. I want to go back to bantering about breakfast lasagna. I want to actually get to know her. To keep her for a little longer.

But it’s time to face the music.

“I think… we need to talk.”

@Olo ooo! As someone who’s rather into the suuuper tiny sizes this is relevant to my interests ️

@Olo Oh wow, I’d never really thought of a drawer as anything other than a way to contain a tiny! But you’re so right, especially if it’s slightly open to let in some light, that sounds sooo cozy! Damn, now I want to sleep in one… Let me just put that idea in my back pocket for potential future stories ️

@miss-lillipants Thank you so so much! It’s going to be quite the slooooow burn so here’s hoping someone makes it to the end lol

Chapter 7
Evie

As tired as I was, I still don’t get the best night’s sleep. Every time I turn over my subconscious senses how unnaturally thick the threads of the ottoman are below me and jolts me awake. Even when my eyes are closed, I can feel the vast empty space all around. The extra light probably doesn’t help, although I think if I was in darkness I’d probably be even more scared.

Nevertheless, bit by bit, my body gets some rest. According to the wall clock that’s hanging in the distance like a numbered moon, it’s about 4am when I give up on getting any more sleep. I get up, use the bathroom - now at least mentally prepared for the aggressive noise that comes out of it - and take a few minutes to sit and think.

I’ve always been pretty convinced that the universe has it out for me. As far back as I can remember, from the moment my dad died when I was four and my mom turned to drugs, it’s been one thing after another. This whole getting shrunk thing might just take the cake. But I’ve always dealt with each challenge the same way. Don’t give up. Fight back. Work harder. I really, really wish that the universe could just give me a lucky break, just once in my life. But I’m used to that not being the case.

As I stare out at the wide expanse of the apartment, dizzied by the sight, I give myself five more minutes to be upset about it. To wallow in the hopelessness and fear, and to curse whatever uncaring gods have allowed this to happen.

Then I put the lid back on. Enough with the tears. It’s time to pull myself together.

I make my way along the lines of miniaturized items - I’ve sorted out the things that I think will be particularly helpful in the coming days, but I don’t want to overlook anything. This stuffed narwhal might appear useless, but if Aiden hadn’t given me something to use as a pillow it would have come in handy.

Aiden… I don’t know how to feel about him. I’m not worried about his intentions, at this point he’s clearly proven himself to be kind and well-meaning. But I still can’t help being nervous about how things will go. It’s understandable that he’d find this whole thing pretty stressful too. Unlike me, if he wanted to he could just walk away from all this and move on with his life. Honestly, I wouldn’t particularly blame him. I really, really hope that we find a way to reverse the shrinking before that happens.

I trip and fall over, landing on my knees. I’d have hoped to be used to the texture of the floor by now, but this ottoman is just so difficult to walk on. I hate the idea of burdening my giant keeper by requesting a different home base, but I don’t know if I can keep spending all my time here. I might as well make it as quick and easy as possible to relocate… Let’s pack it up.

There’s a plastic letter opener among the shrunken items that looks like a dagger - since it isn’t made of metal it’s not as sharp as I’d like, but it can still do the trick. I approach the massive ziplock bag that had originally held all of the reduced items and start cutting into it, making large square sheets from the plastic. I use these to bundle up the miniatures, bringing in the corners of the tarp-like plastic and tying them off with a knot.

The process is slow, especially with how long it takes me to cut out the squares. Hours pass and the sun slowly begins to rise outside. But at least it keeps me busy. Eventually I finish making bundles and start piling them into the miniature bathroom like it’s a moving van. I’m almost done with this and am feeling very out of breath when I hear a disturbance in the distance. My muscles tense as I figure that Aiden’s getting up.

Even though I order myself to not freak out when I see him, I still go stiff at the sound of heavy thumping signaling his footsteps and then flinch at the sight of something so big coming into view so suddenly. But despite my heartbeat picking up speed, I manage to maintain a composed facade this time.

Even from a distance I can see more detail at this size than I normally might. Aiden clearly didn’t sleep great either. And yet despite the bedhead and heightened shadows under his eyes, he still gives me a warm, friendly smile as he enters the room.

“Good morning,” his voice resounds, “Sorry, have you been up a while? Do you need anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks!” I really try to project this time since he’s still a few feet away.

He comes closer to sit near me on the couch, and it’s as he crouches down that he notices all the shrunken items aren’t laid out anymore. His eyes move to the bundle in my hands.

“Huh. Looks like you’ve been busy,” he says, blinking.

“Yeah, I… guess I have been up for a little while.” I’m feeling embarrassed, holding my makeshift luggage a little tighter to my chest as I hesitate to make the request. “I was hoping to ask you, if it’s not too much trouble… since you said you don’t really use your desk… do you mind if I move up there?”

His eyes now glance down to my feet, still clearly unsteady on the squishy surface of the ottoman, before his gaze flicks back up. “Oh, yeah, no problem. Sorry Evie, I could have helped you with all that…”

I shake my head and take an unsteady step towards the metal bathroom, tossing the final bundle inside. “That’s alright, it’s been a good distraction.” I shut the door and step back sheepishly.

Aiden smiles at me and gathers the timer and the last of the tiny items, since a few of them are too big to have packed up - things like a calendar, a book, a baseball bat, all bigger than I am. Then he easily lifts the bathroom, standing up so he can transport it all to the nearby desk.

I stare out at the chasm between me and the high-up surface of the table, trying to imagine a ramp between here and there. It would be almost a hundred feet in length… How long would it have taken for me to have traversed back and forth across such a bridge in order to carry all of those items across? Meanwhile for this giant it takes him less than two seconds with practically no effort.

“Want to go up there right now?” he asks, his arm already outstretched as he comes back to me.

I keep it together best I can as the massive beast of a hand comes in for a landing. “Sure,” I respond and force myself to march right up to him. I try to continue talking so that I can keep my mind off of how intimidated I feel. “So I’m guessing there wasn’t anything useful in that journal?”

His fingers visibly tense at the question - well, it’s visible to me anyway. “No, not really,” he responds softly, “I’m sorry…”

I climb onto his open palm, silently crawling to the center of it with my eyes downcast. I’m surprised by how disappointed I feel. I mean, what was I expecting? To find out I just need a bit more vitamin C and I’ll be back to my old self before I know it?

“Yeah, I figured as much,” I say with mock indifference, settling into a kneeling position. I look up and give him a nod, an indication that I’m ready for him to carry me over.

He inclines his head in return. “Up you go.”

Aiden raises me skyward, a lot more slow and careful than he was with the bathroom. I do wish I had something more substantial to hold onto. A part of me wants to ask him to loosely wrap his fingers around me so I can do just that, but I feel way too awkward about making that kind of request.

Thankfully the giant continues talking, keeping me distracted from how far down the floor is as we traverse the gap together. “So for uh… next steps. I was planning to go out this morning, check out a few things. There was a news article about the fire, and from the photo it looks like the building itself is intact. With any luck, so is some of the machinery - I’ll see what I can find out. I should probably replace my phone and stuff too…”

“Don’t you have classes today?” I ask a little absently, keeping my eyes on my destination as I’m now elevatoring down to the surface of the desk. As I climb back off his hand, I catch Aiden’s bemused look.

“You’re kidding, right? That’s the last thing on my mind. I can stand to be absent for a couple of days.” He pauses to make sure I’m fully off of him before he pulls his hand away again.

There’s something weirdly nostalgic about stepping out onto the parking lot sized surface of the desk. The visuals are rather foreign - a wide expanse, some oversized office supplies littering the other end, the desk lamp hulking ahead of me like an otherworldly tree. And yet something still feels familiar. I’ve done a lot of moving around in my life, and I realize that I’m strangely reminded of the moment where I walk into a new, empty apartment for the first time.

Aiden takes a seat at the chair nearby, his gaze softening as he watches me take a look around. I rather prefer seeing him from this position - instead of being near his knees as he sits on the couch, I’m closer to his chest level now. He’s still looming over me, but not by quite as much. I have a feeling this view of him is going to become all too familiar.

“You definitely look steadier on your feet,” he remarks.

“Yeah, this is way better, thank you. Plus I can get more sunlight from here!” I motion to the window that’s just alongside the desk. “I promise I’ll stay over on this side.”

“No worries, take up the whole desk. I’m clearly not using it, it’s yours.”

My chest tightens. I keep feeling uncomfortable with how much he’s going out of his way for me. But I also don’t want to seem ungrateful.

“It’s more than I need but… Thank you…”

“You bet. With any luck it’ll be very temporary anyway.”

I’ve noticed that Aiden has these moments where his gaze tends to linger. Can’t say that I blame him - it’s been less than 24 hours since I’ve become a bit of a freak of nature. I must be a rather bizarre sight… And hell, sometimes I can’t stop staring at him either.

He snaps out of it, straightening up as he says, “Um, I saw you were almost out of water, I’ll go get you some more… Any breakfast requests? I’m not the best cook but the fridge is pretty well stocked.”

I blush, chest getting even tighter at the feeling of being so reliant on him. “Anything’s fine, really…” I say and realize my nervousness is peeking through so I add more lightheartedly, “I don’t even eat ‘breakfast foods’ usually. I’m a heathen and will just have whatever leftovers are in the fridge.”

Aiden grins at this. “You’re just like a friend of mine. He will literally roll into an 8AM class with his tupperware of lasagna.”

“Breakfast lasagna’s the best!”

We share a laugh. It’s our first genuine laugh since the incident and I watch how it lights up his whole face like sunbeams after a storm. I swear, for just a split second, I forget that I’m small. For this infinitesimal moment of time, I can pretend that everything’s normal and I’m just getting to know a new friend.

And then the nerves rush right back. I stay perfectly composed though as Aiden continues, "I’m pretty good at making eggs actually. We should have a proper meal this time.”

I extend an awkward thumbs up. “I’m game.”

He gets me another spoonful of water before he retreats into the distant kitchen. I can still see him just fine from where I’m at, but it’s more like watching clouds moving around, albeit too colorful and too fast. Sounds of clanging and sizzling echo in the distance, and cooking smells eventually travel across the room.

I decide to use my water supply not just for hydration - I really need to clean myself off. I can still smell the smoke on my clothes, a sobering reminder of just how recently everything changed. And speaking of clothes…

I already know from going through all the shrunken items yesterday that the only things that fit me are those little robes that Dr. Little had set aside. They’re so flimsy and scratchy, clearly something he bought as is instead of a real piece of clothing that he shrunk down. Still, it’ll have to do for now. I wish I had the tools to make my own clothes. I’m not too bad at sewing, but I would at least need a needle and thread and don’t have anything of the sort… Oh well, like Aiden said, with any luck this is all very temporary. I don’t want to think about the alternative right now.

I at least have a few tiny toothbrushes, toothpaste and a bar of soap. I duck behind the metal bathroom to strip down and clean myself best I can before slipping on one of the robes. It feels even worse when it’s on.

I hear and see the giant coming back from the kitchen, massive plate in hand. I take a deep breath but stay steady at his approach. Good, I’m starting to get more used to this.

He sets the food down a short distance away from me, the ceramic of the plate a loud clang against the wood of the desk. I ignore my quickened heart rate reacting to the noise by commenting loftily, "With all this junk he shrunk down, he could’ve included some more outfit options.”

"Ohh, right, that’s a problem,” Aiden says as he sits down, “Maybe we can get you some doll clothes?”

"That’s alright, I’ll make do.”

He sets a gigantic spoon beside me with little bits of scrambled egg and apple in it, and I realize that I’m starving. I thank him and dig in gratefully, not caring that I’m having to use my hands. I notice after a moment that I’m being observed - there’s a little frown on my new friend’s face as he’s looking me up and down and then his eyes swing over to where I’d left the soap near the teaspoon of water.

"Evie… I could at least have gotten you some warmer water or something.”

“It’s okay. This was fine. You really do make good eggs!”

Aiden still looks bothered but doesn’t push it, eventually mustering a smile instead. “Thanks. It’s one of, like, three meals I have any confidence in…”

Breakfast passes without further incident. It’s a little unnerving at first to watch such large amounts of food disappear into the giant’s mouth like it’s nothing. But strangely enough I get over it fairly quickly. Something about having a meal together like this is comforting. A small slice of normalcy in a very abnormal situation. Soon we’re back to discussing plans for the day as Aiden finishes up.

"Take your time eating, I’ll go get ready to head out. Speaking of which, um… I can try to bring you with me, if you’d like? Though I’m assuming you’d rather stay hidden if you don’t want to make a scene, so… maybe it’s actually safer for you to stay here? Even if some of the machine is still untouched somehow, I don’t think it would be as simple as just…”

He trails off and the air feels a little heavier. Neither one of us is quite ready to think too hard about what will likely come out of investigating the lab today.

I shake my head, breaking the silence. "No, you’re right. I’ll stay here while you scope things out.”

He nods in return, his jaw tight. "I’ll try to hurry back. You sure you don’t need anything before I go?”

“I’m good.”

I stare after him as he goes to get ready, feeling as restless as a dog whose owner is about to go to work. Just as he opens the door to leave the apartment, he turns to shoot me a quick wave and a “see you later.” He’s on the opposite side of the room, so even if I yelled I’m not sure he would have heard my response.

I hate the silence that’s left behind once he’s gone. It makes it harder to ignore the thoughts that are lurking in the depths of my mind, swirling beneath the surface and threatening to devour me. Everything’s too vast, too empty, I feel like I might drown–

No. No tears. It’s time to keep myself occupied.

@Olo Well put! I completely agree, there’s something about the adventure of it. On my end it’s the idea of having to figure out how to use and navigate all of the now-enormous items. A giant friend to help with that would be lovely as well heh

Chapter 6
Aiden

I stare at the next page in the journal, the title at the top immediately catching my attention: “Human Trials.” Something about seeing that on paper gives me a horrible sinking sensation in my stomach.

There are a few separate entries, each of them quite lengthy. It looks like Dr. Little wasn’t lying about the fact that Evie was the fourth test subject. There are paragraphs of notes about the other three, detailing not so much measurements and data but qualitative information - how they behaved and reacted. I notice that all of them were women. As I continue to read… I really start to feel sick.

He would take them back to his home for “extended study.” But I’m not even sure he cared so much about actually studying much of anything; the types of experiments he documented didn’t seem to be about scientific research. Things like seeing how they’d react to extreme hot or cold, or being tied up for hours at a time. He doesn’t go into all of the details in his notes, but the further I delve the more it sounds like the experiments were actually more like… punishments. As if he was training them, somehow, like they were animals to domesticate. He’d go on about their beauty and… my brain starts to fill in the gaps. I don’t think the fact that Evie’s really pretty is a coincidence.

I try not to linger too long on any one sentence, just pushing through as I desperately hope to find some indication of him restoring these girls. But what I find instead is far more horrifying.

The first of them didn’t make it through a “stress test.”

The second ended up jumping off a table while his back was turned.

The third had never stopped shrinking.

My hands are trembling as I keep reading. All of the test trials had gone through some sort of issue where the machinery didn’t work quite right, resulting in each of the subjects not reaching the target size for the test, particularly so for the third. Dr. Little rants about this for a couple of paragraphs, venting his frustration in stilted lines on the page, about the complexities of the shrinking process for humans being too much to juggle on his own in the lab. At the bottom, in capital letters, underlined twice, he wrote “NEED ASSISTANT.”

I worry I might actually throw up. With shaky fingers I shut the book quietly and try to take a deep breath. After more than two hours of sitting here, the sun starting to set outside, I’ve reached the end of the notes with nothing to show for it. I’m shocked at the horrors that I was unknowingly going to be complicit to, and I’m completely losing hope.

It’s at this point that I look back towards the ottoman, expecting to see my classmate meticulously working as usual. But instead I see hundreds of miniscule items, fully categorized into rows and groups, a perfectly organized display… but the girl who’s sorted them is off to the side, sitting with her back to me. Head in her hands. Her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs that are too quiet for me to hear.

It’s been a long, stressful, life-changing kind of day. I think about the other victims of the shrinking process. What could have potentially happened if Dr. Little got his way with Evie today. And then, even though I hardly know this girl, I feel a sudden surge of emotion. A desperate desire to protect her from all harm.

I move instinctively, sliding off of the couch to the floor while trying not to make any sudden or frightening motions. She hears me and her shoulders tense - I think she tries to stop herself from crying as she continues to hide her face. But try as she might, her breathing is still coming in shallow. She just can’t keep her emotions at bay anymore.

“Hey…” I say softly, my chest tight, “You’re not alone, okay? I’m here to help however I can.”

I wish I could tell her how. I wish I could fix this, or at least take her hand or give her a hug or… or something. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this helpless in my life. I do the only thing I can think of and reach a hand over to gently brush a finger against her back.

For a moment she stiffens at my touch and I worry that I’m making things worse yet again. But then she turns, still keeping her gaze away from mine, and presses up against me, burying her face into my fingers, and she begins to sob in earnest. This sets my heart racing. I’m not sure what else to do so I just let her cry it out, using my thumb now to carefully rub up and down her back.

After a couple of minutes, Evie starts calming down, taking deep, shuddering breaths. She finally looks up at me and musters a smile. “Thanks,” she says, and she’s still so quiet, but my ears are getting better at honing in on her little voice.

“Don’t mention it,” I say, weakly smiling back. “Maybe we should call it a night soon… Are you hungry?”

“Not really. I’m just so tired…” She rubs at her eyes and lets out a sigh. “But I should probably eat something. Any luck with the notebook?"

“Um… not yet,” I say, evading the question. Now doesn’t seem like the best time to give her the details I’ve found. “I’ll go grab some food for you. Is cheese and deli meat okay?”

“Sounds good. I’m not picky.”

I go back to the kitchen to make a simple sandwich - ham, cheese, avocado. I pinch a tiny piece of it off for her, though it’s probably still bigger than her entire head. I stare at it and don’t love how rough it looks, like I just ripped off some leftovers to feed to a dog, so I take a few extra seconds to lay the mini-sandwich on a cutting board and use a knife to trim off the jagged edges. It doesn’t exactly look beautiful in the end but it’s a bit neater at least. I lay the food on a spoon in lieu of a plate and get some more water for her while I’m at it.

Evie thanks me as I set these down in front of her, and she’s stifling a yawn. She appears less upset now, at least, but definitely super fatigued.

“Yeah, you look tuckered out,” I observe with a sympathetic smile. “Want to go ahead and turn in early?”

She’s reaching past the lip of the spoon to pull off some bread and nibble at it as she stares off into space. “I don’t think my body’s going to give me much of a choice. I feel like I could pass out at any minute… again.”

“Um, let’s try to avoid you fainting this time, please.”

I watch her for a moment, a little amused at how she’s eating - instead of attempting to bite into the oversized sandwich she’s just picking off tiny bits of ham and cheese and bread as separate components, holding a crumb in both hands as she takes small bites. Like a mouse with a millet seed. She has to be actively trying to be this cute, right?

Trying to reel myself in and avoid gawking at her again, I turn my mind to next steps. It’s not even 7pm yet, but clearly we need to get this girl some sleep.

"I’ll go change out the bed sheets real quick and I can bring you over there whenever you’re ready,” I suggest.

Evie lifts her head and cocks it to the side at me, slowly processing. “…You’re offering me your bed.”

"Yeah, I can sleep here on the couch. No big deal.”

"Aiden, no, you don’t have to do that. That seems a bit ridiculous, don’t you think? With me like this?”

"Just because you’re little doesn’t mean you’re not a guest.”

She actually lets out a laugh now and okay, true, the mental image of her in a vastly oversized bed is pretty silly. It does feel good to see her smile, though.

“No, really, it’s okay,” she insists, “I think part of the reason I’m so tired is because this kind of already feels like a giant mattress… I’ll be fine here. Honestly anything bigger would probably be too overwhelming.”

“Oh. Yeah okay, I could see that.” I ponder for a second and add, “Well, I’ll at least find you something to use as a blanket… I’ll be right back."

That insistent part of me that I keep trying to push away feels a little disappointed that I don’t get to pick her up again. But I’m determined to at least do what I can to make her comfortable. I go to my bedroom and look around in the closet for anything that can work. Blankets, pillow cases, shirts - everything’s way too big. I start going through my dresser drawers, and for a moment I consider a sock since it’s at least a somewhat more appropriate size. But even though they’re clean there’s something about it that just seems gross.

I come across a well-worn T-shirt that I haven’t used in a while since it has a couple of holes in it. It’s pretty soft, though… I should probably be getting rid of it anyway, maybe now I can salvage something.

On top of the dresser are some of my office supplies that have congregated, including a pair of scissors, and I set to work cutting into the shirt. I got this from some kind of volunteer event and there’s a little logo on it in the shape of a dog… I let that adorn the bottom of this makeshift blanket, making me smile as I imagine her snuggling underneath.

I cut another strip of the fabric to fold a couple of times into a small rectangle to offer as a rudimentary pillow. I’m finding myself wishing I could sew and wonder what other little things I could make for her… assuming she’ll be staying here for any length of time, that is.

When I come back to the living room, I worry for a second that Evie really has passed out. She’s slumped onto the side of the spoon, and it looks like she’s hardly made a dent in the sandwich before giving up. She twitches at the sound of my footsteps coming in, sleepily lifting her head back up to watch me, her body tensing at my approach.

I crouch down beside her for the last time that night, setting her makeshift pillow down next to where she’s sitting, and she immediately turns to collapse onto it. I smile and get the sweet moment I’d been secretly hoping for, carefully draping the blanket I’d made over her tiny frame. I refrain from trying to tuck her in, though, too afraid of squishing her.

“I’ll leave a light on in case you need to get up at night,” I mutter, and then I see I’m losing her fast so I quickly add, “If you need anything, let me know with this.”

I set down something I’d picked up from my bedroom, a visual countdown timer that I use for studying. It’s about as tall as she is and the knob in the center should be small enough for her to maneuver without issue.

“Just turn the timer on and off and it’ll beep. I’m a light sleeper, it’ll definitely wake me up.”

Evie gazes up at me and for a second I worry she’s about to start crying again. Am I overwhelming her with too much stuff? I really need to just leave and let her sleep. But she pulls it together and forces a smile my way.

“Thank you.”

I nod and start backing off. “No problem. Good night, Evie.”

I turn on the desk lamp and turn off the overhead light, walking away as quietly as I can. Just before going into my room, I pause. I stare at the ottoman, the minuscule figure laying on it, already curled up on her side and visibly unconscious. I really don’t like leaving her by herself.

An image pops into my brain, unbidden. Her little form curled up on me instead, snoozing away on my chest as I drift off to sleep– And I’m so mortified by the thought that I immediately turn on my heel and march straight into my room.

I spend the rest of the evening on my laptop, trying to find any scrap of information that I can about the scientist responsible for all this. Google gives me nothing. I dig into all of the school records and he never actually had an association with the university, all of that was faked. So was the sponsor company he said he’d worked with. When searching the room reservations for the chemical lab we were at, I’m shocked to find his name but literally no other information. There’s no record of me being there, nor Evie, nor any of the other victims for that matter. The secrecy behind this whole thing is far more extensive than I’d realized. I feel like all I’m doing is running into dead ends.

And even when I eventually try to sleep, it doesn’t come easily. Images keep flashing in my brain. Evie writhing in Dr. Little’s grip. Fire overtaking a corpse. Evie unconscious under an oxygen mask. Notebook pages reeking of terror and death. Evie crying her heart out. Evie trembling with fear in my hand. Evie so, so small… so vulnerable…

So beautiful…

I feel like my head might split in two as a battle rages within it. Hours pass before I finally drift into a dark, uncomfortable, fitful sleep.

@subasubaski Ahhh thank you so much, that warms my heart! Writing feels like therapy for me sometimes, it’s just such a nice creative outlet.

@Olo As much as we’re all into this fantasy, I think we can agree that if it actually happened we’d all be a little freaked out (And did I decide to write in a super convenient and discreet way for her to go the bathroom because I didn’t want to deal with that challenge? Yes. Yes I did lol.)

Chapter 5
Aiden

This. Is. Crazy.

I hope Evie can’t tell just how freaked out I actually am. I’ve probably had more adrenaline pumped into me in the last hour than in the entire past year combined. I can’t even begin to unpack Dr. Little’s death and the part I played in it. Not to mention the predicament of my shrunken classmate who I’m holding in my hand like she’s a goddamn hamster. But I know that all pales in comparison to what this poor girl just went through. She looks so lost and afraid and I feel a sense of responsibility to keep it together in her stead.

But then again. The experience of having her willingly climb onto my hand is… something else.

I’m not wearing gloves this time so I can feel the tiny tickle of her fingers as she hesitantly reaches her arms out and touches me. I can sense the weight and temperature of her body as she clambers aboard. I can tell she’s trembling as she crawls away from the edges and kneels in the middle of my palm. Despite a part of me feeling incredibly stressed about the whole thing, another part of me is just as enchanted now as I was the first time I picked her up.

I gently lift her off the counter and it’s like holding a little bird, she’s so light and delicate and… and adorable. I feel a wave of guilt at having any kind of positive emotion from this when Evie still seems so freaked out. I slip my other hand under the first, cupping my fingers around her protectively.

“Is this okay?” I ask, trying to keep my hands as steady as I can. “You good?”

She’s looking a bit pale and is clearly trying to not look down. But after a moment of pause she glances up at me, tilting her neck back. “I’m good… Don’t drop me please.” And she actually manages a weak smile.

Maybe that was some feeble attempt at joking around, but I think it might be best to respond with sincerity right now. “I won’t. I’ve got you. So uh… I’ll give you a tour? You’ve already seen the kitchen. Right past here’s the living room…”

Holding Evie up near chest level, I begin slowly making my way around the apartment. The kitchen and living make up one big open area, with a couch and ottoman to one side, a desk near the window, a small bookshelf beside it. Coming off to the right side of the room is a nook containing a washer-dryer unit, with a door to my bedroom on one side and one to the bathroom on the other. My place isn’t particularly huge, but for her I’m sure it’s a very different story.

I keep glancing down at the tiny girl in my hands, trying really hard not to stare excessively. Thankfully she’s too busy looking around wide-eyed at everything to seemingly notice. It’s all feeling so surreal, like a very bizarre dream. I try to remember seeing her in class, back when she was just average human height.

She always sat by herself towards the back, though that didn’t keep her from looking attentive. I’d thought before of sitting next to her, not sure if she was shy or just preferred being on her own. Every once in a while I’d notice someone else talk to her, and she always seemed really friendly despite keeping to herself. But I already had a friend in the class and never got around to approaching her. She’d rarely linger after the lesson either, just pick up her things and march out of the classroom with a confident stride.

It’s so difficult to accept that this tiny person I’m holding is the same young woman I’d see in class… All the details just as I remember them but in miniature…

“You might wonder why I even have a desk in the other room since I clearly do all my homework in here,” I say as lightheartedly as I can when we get to the bedroom that’s littered with papers and textbooks. “Yeah, I don’t know either.”

That’s how I end my very short tour of the place. Evie hasn’t said a word during the entire thing and honestly things are feeling pretty awkward. Neither one of us knows how to handle the situation.

I’m having a hard time imagining what the coming days are going to look like. Even though she seemed so hesitant to get outside help - and I can understand why facing all of that might be intimidating - we’re going to need to do it eventually if we want to try and restore her, right? Assuming I don’t have a police officer show up at my door first because it was on record that I was in the room that caught fire.

I don’t know how long it’ll be until we face the outside world. But I figure at the very least we should take the rest of the afternoon to try to settle our nerves and form some kind of plan.

“So… I’m trying to think through how we want to do this,” I say as I step back into the living room, “I don’t want to just leave you stranded up somewhere, but I also don’t want to put you on the floor, that doesn’t seem safe. Or sanitary.” I should really give this place a good clean.

Evie says something quietly, too quiet for me to make out. Without thinking, I reflexively lift her up higher to hear her better, causing her to recoil and give me a fearful look. “Sorry,” I wince, pulling her back farther from my face again.

Good going, Aiden. Let’s just continue to traumatize her why don’t we.

“It’s hard to hear you sometimes,” I try to explain.

“N-no, it’s okay,” she says, projecting a little more. “Um, I was just agreeing… on maybe not the floor… But I mean, anywhere’s fine.”

“Okay, well… How about I set you on the ottoman for now? I’m just nervous putting you anywhere too high up.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

I make my way over to the nearby couch and begin to lower myself to the floor, which should be a simple maneuver and yet I feel a wave of anxiety as I do it… I’m so conscious of every little movement I’m making at this point. Once I’m kneeling down I shift both hands up to rest on the gray, rectangular ottoman in question. It’s not very big, maybe one by two feet, but again for Evie I’m sure it’s a very different experience. She crawls back off my hand, the tickling of it making my heart skip a beat, and I actually feel a little sad about how relieved she looks to be off of me and on more stable ground.

She gets to her feet and has to hold her arms out to maintain her balance on the plush fabric, making me second guess myself at the choice of furniture to put her on. Although her trying not to fall over like this is also really cute…

Stop. Staring. I tell myself, looking off to the side for a second. I really need to focus.

“C-can I get you anything?” I finally say, turning back to her. “Some water maybe?”

Evie has given up on trying to walk at this point and just sits on the ottoman cross-legged. “Actually, yeah. That would be great,” she says, remembering to speak up this time.

I head back to the kitchen, feeling admittedly nervous about leaving her by herself even if she’s still within my sights. Without even thinking I grab a glass from one of the cabinets and am about to fill it before it hits me that she can’t use it. Right. Smaller cup.

I start looking through the other cabinets and drawers for something I can use and instead I’m realizing just how many other things are no longer going to work either - forks, knives, plates… And it’s going to go beyond that. If she stays with me past today, where will she sleep? What will she wear? How will she bathe or brush her teeth or go to the bathroom? What about her belongings, wherever she was living before? What about her classes? Or the thousand other concerns I’m not even thinking about right now? My head is already spinning and I haven’t even been able to get her a simple glass of water.

I take a deep, steadying breath. My brain is scattered and keeps trying to take on too much at once. I need to focus on what’s right in front of me. Like… this measuring spoon. Yeah, this could work, actually.

I fill the teaspoon with a few drops of water and start heading back when I notice something else right in front of me. I’d forgotten about Dr. Little’s bag, laying on the floor by the front door. Hold on. What if there’s an antidote or something in here?!

Suddenly a man on a mission, I grab the briefcase and come back into the living room where Evie’s waiting patiently right where I left her. She notices the intent look on my face and seems a bit unnerved by it.

“Is everything okay?” she asks as I kneel on the floor and put the bag down.

I carefully set the measuring spoon onto the ottoman as I explain, “I just remembered, I grabbed this on the way out of the lab, it’s some of Dr. Little’s stuff…”

I zip open the briefcase, laying it out on the ground and taking in the array of stuff inside. Evie’s interest is piqued and she forgets about the water, scooting over to the edge of the ottoman to watch.

Trying not to rush, I go through everything in turn. There’s an unsettling amount of syringes, filled with what’s clearly labeled to be a variety of sedatives. There’s a small contraption of some kind, a metal box that looks to be the right size for Evie to fit inside. A carrying case maybe? Though when I pick it up there’s a slight sloshing sound that seems to be coming from its walls - I’m not sure what to make of it and just set it on the ottoman near my little classmate. There are a few tiny outfits that look more like hospital gowns. There’s also a ziplock bag with a huge variety of miniature items, too small and too numerous for me to make sense of right away, and I put these on the ottoman too.

I don’t see anything that is an obvious cure for being shrunk. I really shouldn’t be surprised, especially with all the machinery it took to reduce things down in the first place, but it’s disappointing nonetheless. There is a journal, though, and I pick this up last. Evie’s watching me intently as I take a quick glance through.

“Looks like it’s some of his notes,” I tell her as I flip the pages, “I’ll see if I can find any clues in here…”

“Alright. I’ll look through some of this other stuff.” She’s already struggling to access the ziplock bag, and I’m about to reach over to help when she finally pries it open.

“Is that a toothbrush?” I ask, leaning in to squint at the first thing she pulls out.

“Looks like he was really prepared for… something,” she adds with a grim tone.

“Well, at least some of this might help us in the short run,” I say as I get up to sit on the couch, notebook in hand. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

And this is how we spend the next part of the afternoon. At first there’s lingering tension in the air, the both of us still recovering from all of the previous excitement. But as the minutes eventually become hours in the relative quiet, we’re finally beginning to relax somewhat.

These notes were definitely not anything official, and they’re really hard to decipher. Some pages he just used as scratch paper, littering them with equations and nonsensical thoughts. At some point the focus switches to the experiments he ran, just offhanded observations on the large variety of items that he shrank down. I’m thinking most of the items that Evie is going through are the results of said experiments.

I still can’t help occasionally glancing at the shrunken girl before me. I tell myself that I’m just watching over her, making sure she’s safe up on her perch. But I can’t deny the fluttering in my stomach whenever I look over. I just want to observe every detail… Her industrious mannerisms as she parses through the miniatures. The way she has to scoop water into her hands to take a drink from the measuring spoon. The expressions on her little face, overwhelmed but also quite focused on the task at hand. Everything about her is just so tiny and cute and… enticing.

Focus, I tell myself, every time.

At one point, I come across something in the journal that at least looks familiar - a sketch of a schematic with some notes on how it works. I realize it matches the little metal box that had been in the bag too.

“So…” I interrupt the silence as quietly as I can but still manage to make Evie flinch. “Apparently this thing’s supposed to be a miniature bathroom,” I say, pointing at the box that’s still on the ottoman.

She stands to approach the chamber curiously and I lean in as well. There’s a door in the front that she pulls open, cautiously taking a step to peer inside. I don’t quite see what she’s doing as she carefully explores the apparatus, but suddenly there’s a whooshing sound from within. It only lasts a second or two and it’s not very loud, to me at least, but it makes her yell and suddenly pull her arm back, taking several fearful steps in reverse.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Y-yes. That’ll take some getting used to,” she answers, staring at her new bathroom. “Still…” she adds with a weak attempt at laughter, “Better than trying to use a normal toilet I guess.”

That’s true. One less item on our very, very long list of things to worry about. The fact that this device even exists is a little disconcerting, though. Hammering in the fact that Evie would not have been restored to her normal stature anytime soon.

I take a second to glance at what she’s been working on, sorting all of these tiny items into sections, lined up neatly in each group. I’m recognizing things from what I’ve been seeing in the notebook - plastic bottles, various fruit, a towel, a basketball, I even notice the chair that I had personally seen shrink down. They’re not all tailored to her size, a strange amalgamation of items at all different scales.

Evie notices where I’m looking and addresses me, “I do think there’s some stuff here that might come in handy, but most of it’s so random. I’m guessing this was all of the earlier experiments? Not sure if this is any kind of clue, but it looks like most of it’s made of wood or cloth or plastic.”

“Right, so I do know a little bit on how the machine worked…” I say, at this point looking for any excuse to talk to her and escape the cramped handwriting of Dr. Little’s pen. “It used some sort of solution that he vaporized into a gas. That’s what would alter the size of the subject topically.”

“Topically?” She looks up at me with a furrowed brow. “I figured it was whatever I was breathing in there, but it worked by touch?”

“Yeah, that’s how your clothes got smaller too. It doesn’t affect metal or glass, though, which is what the testing chamber was made of.”

“That explains why I couldn’t wear jewelry or anything metal…”

“Yup,” I say with a nod. It somehow feels productive to tell her the little that I know about the technology behind this. But it’s not. I’m not really doing anything to solve the problem, since it’s not like I actually understand how any of this works.

We return to our tasks - I dog-ear the page about the mini bathroom so that I can refer back to how it works later, and then I go back to squinting at the messy handwriting. Time continues to drag and I’m not finding anything else that’s particularly relevant in the notebook.

That is, until I reach the end of it. Then I find way more than I had bargained for.

@Olo Poor girl’s just a wee bit overstimulated